


but in you is the presence that will be, when all the stars are dead

by potstickermaster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: College AU, F/F, Poetry, and a lot of pretentiousness, but i like them for emotional reasons, but let me feed you trash!, happy birthday meg!!!, i dont know if that's a thing, i’m trained to edit run-on sentences, where i confess my undying love for hozier and siken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickermaster/pseuds/potstickermaster
Summary: Kara looks confused. “Why would you deliberately drink a kale smoothie?”Lena raises an eyebrow. It sends an odd, sharp feeling through Kara’s belly but she only stares with wide eyes. “Why would you put 30 marshmallows in your mouth?” Lena shoots back.Or, Kara and Lena meet in a college creative writing class.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poison_f](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poison_f/gifts).



> This fic is a collaboration with the lovely Meg whose birthday is today! Happy birthday bb! You're one of the greatest people I know so you stay awesome! :) 
> 
> Y’all go greet her on Twitter @_f_poison or else :) Original poems by her.
> 
> In other matters, I know I haven’t been around much. Sorry for that. I have other things in the works but I’d really rather not promise anything lol. Anyway, title from Buddha in Glory by Rainer Maria Rilke. Let me know what you think! And don't forget to greet Meg!!! XD

Choosing a creative writing class wasn’t unheard of for a Journalism student like Kara. However, while most of her blockmates picked fiction or nonfiction writing, Kara chose to enroll in a poetry class for senior year fall term. She would have thought at least one stray student from her block would be there, but as she walks into the classroom at 10am on the dot with no familiar face in sight, she figures it makes sense. What use would a poetry class be when you’re writing news and features, after all?

Kara’s interest in the class was purely personal. Reading had been a good distraction and an important educational resource in her assimilation of Earth knowledge and culture. While she went to school and learned of things she already knew—she was from an advanced civilization after all, and the reminder of it makes her ache—she sneaks in books to read and spends much of her time in the library. Krypton wasn’t one to focus on the arts, always the sciences, and though she is well-versed in calculus at age four and can explain quantum entanglement in her sleep, there was something wonderful about words that were more than what they seemed. That, and being in the sciences might not help with the whole charade of pretending she is human.

She is doing well so far.

Kara hurries to one of the vacant seats. It was a small class, but as far as she could count there were only around ten of them. She’s the eleventh. Someone else walks in after she sat—a tall woman with dark hair and wearing a lovely red, fitting dress that makes her look regal more than anything else.

“Good morning class,” the woman greets. “My name is Diana Prince and I’ll be handling your Poetry 101.” She smiles. Kara thinks she’s gorgeous, and if she was going to be teaching this class, Kara thinks she’ll have more incentive to go.

“So since there are only fifteen of you in this class, supposedly,” Ms. Prince says, taking a sheet of paper from the folder on her desk then giving the room a quick scan. “Only eleven now, apparently. Well, I’d like you to move your seats in a circle so you can see each other during introductions.”

Everyone else gets up and Kara takes her own chair, making sure she at least _looks_ like it weighs something even if it feels like she was lifting a piece of paper. Kara takes a seat between a pink-haired woman in all-black who gave Kara a small nod, and a guy in glasses who looks like he is in serious need of sleep.

“Right,” Ms. Prince says when everyone has settled down, “since it’s our first day—”

She pauses and looks to the doorway where a dark-haired woman, presumably another student, walks in and excuses herself. Kara watches her take one of the chairs and drag it to join the circle; she is wearing a red flannel shirt with sleeves rolled to her elbows, tight black pants and boots. She was pale. So pale, in fact, that Kara noticed the light flush on her cheeks. She could hear her ragged breathing and racing heartbeat, too. She must have ran up to the third floor.

Ms. Prince returns her attention to the class. “As I was saying, since it’s our first day, I’d like for us to do introductions first, then I’ll discuss the syllabus for the sem. Just tell us your name, your major, and three things about you. Two truths, one lie, and then we’ll have to guess which is the latter.”

Ms. Prince smiles, like she is excited. Kara grins, already thinking of hers.

“Let’s start with you,” Ms. Prince says, gesturing to the pink-haired woman beside Kara. “Miss...?”

The student beside Kara gives the rest of her classmates a small wave. “Quinn Fabray. Creative writing. Um. Three things: I transferred from BA, I used to be a cheerleader, and... I have a tramp stamp of Ryan Seacrest’s face.”

There are snickers in the room. Even Kara can’t help but chuckle, and Quinn doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she grins.

The class answers that the lie is the third.

Quinn smacks her lips together. “First. I transferred from Economics.”

There’s a moment of collective silence and Quinn giggles to herself. Kara hears the other students try to rein in their laughter but they can’t. Kara doesn’t—she snorts painfully and laughs, and Quinn smirks proudly beside her.

Ms. Prince herself chuckles, before gesturing to Kara for her turn. The blonde composes herself, bright grin on her lips. “Um. Hi, I’m Kara Danvers, senior, Journalism major.” She pushes her glasses up the bridge  of her nose. “I… Can fit 30 marshmallows in my mouth for Chubby Bunny, I was in my high school soccer team, and um, I love Chinese food.”

She fiddles with her glasses as she waits for the class to respond. Her classmate who came in late looks at her.

“Can you, like, say _ah?”_ She says, gesturing to Kara. The blonde thinks she sees a glimmer of something shiny in her mouth but she obeys anyway, opening her mouth for the woman.

“Hm.” The woman shrugs. “The soccer is false.”

Kara glances to Ms. Prince, who had an amused smile on her face, then looks at the woman across the circle from her. “That’s right,” Kara concedes with a slight laugh. “I was more of a… chess girl in high school, really.”

The class laugh softly. The boy beside Kara—Gary, he says—continues, but Kara keeps her attention at the dark-haired woman across her for a few more seconds. She turns to Kara after a while, and Kara stiffens for a moment before the woman looks away.

When it was finally her turn, Kara found herself leaning forward, as if she had been waiting for it the whole time.

“Hey everyone,” she says with a small smile. “I’m Lena Luthor, senior, from Bio-Eng’g. I like Star Wars, have eight piercings, and my favorite drink is kale smoothies.”

“The kale is false,” Kara answers, far too quickly. She scrunches her nose and gives Lena’s ears a quick glance. That doesn’t look like eight piercings, but she does see the glint of metal studs on Lena’s left ear. She remembers the one she saw just minutes ago. On her tongue, perhaps.

“No,” Lena says with a raised eyebrow. “I actually have ten piercings.”

Kara looks confused. “Why would you deliberately drink a kale smoothie?”

Lena raises an eyebrow. It sends an odd, sharp feeling through Kara’s belly but she only stares with wide eyes. “Why would you put 30 marshmallows in your mouth?” Lena shoots back.

The class laughs and Kara chuckles. “Touché,” she concedes, but she fixates on the question of _where_ her piercings are. As Lena’s seatmate begins talking, Kara glances at Lena, gaze searching for the curious piercings. She could cheat, move down her glasses perhaps, but that was an invasion of privacy she would never dare cross.

The curiosity gnaws at her until the end of class. Before she could get up and ask Lena, the engineering student is out the door, bag in tow, muttering about her stupid schedule.

Kara watches her walk away.

;

Kara can’t stop thinking about Lena. Sure, it was interesting that Gary got his nipple bitten off by a horse and Iris finally admitted she’s going out with that skinny guy from Crim or something—Barry? Buddy? he always seemed to be in a hurry every time Kara sees him—but even with Kara’s investigative journalism elective with _the_ Ben Urich, she can’t seem to stop thinking about Lena.

She blames her curiosity. It’s what makes her a good journalist, Ms. Grant says—her nose for facts, her thirst for truth, her hunger for the story. Kara thinks its Lena’s snark that drew her in, or the question of where her stupid piercings are.

“I just took a potsticker from your plate and you _didn’t_ even notice,” Alex says from her left, and when her words dawn on Kara, she whips her attention to her sister and indignantly yelps.

“That was _my_ potsticker!” She frowns, before shoving the remaining dumpling on the plate on the coffee table  into her mouth. She glares at her sister as she chews.

“I was checking how serious you are about whatever it was you were thinking about,” Alex says with a raised eyebrow. “Definitely seems serious if you didn’t notice me. Everything okay?”

Kara pauses and swallows, stalling herself by chugging half of her soda before shrugging at Alex. “Yeah, just…”

She hesitates telling her sister about Lena for a  moment. The last time Kara told her about a girl in her class was with Lucy from her Media Law class last year and the way she smelled.

“That’s gay interest, Kara,” Alex had told her, with a smile that was amused but eyes that were cautious. Kara wonders once more if this was how Alex felt with Maggie, when things were new—just trying to make sense of everything.

“I think my classmates in poetry are interesting,” Kara finally says. “My prof’s pretty, too,” she adds, and at least that one isn’t much of a lie nor an omission of the truth.

“Right.” Alex smiles with understanding and playfully bumps her shoulder with Kara’s, whining when the blonde didn’t budge.

“Ouch,” the older Danvers huffs. “Anyway. Whenever you’re ready, Kara.”

Kara thanks her softly, before returning the playful shove. Alex lands with a quiet _oof_ on the other side of the couch. _“That_ was for stealing my potsticker.”

Alex laughs. “So worth it,” she grins. “I only have lab tomorrow. Want to watch anything?

“Yikes. Grad school definitely isn’t sounding fun,” Kara says with a laugh, but she reaches for her laptop in her backpack and opens it for them to watch something. She remembers Lena mentioning _Star Wars_ and smiles, but she lets Alex pick the movie.

It’s her curiosity. That’s all.

;

Kara sees Lena again, of course, next meeting, all dark hair and flushed cheeks and racing heartbeat. _Late again._ She sits at the back this time as Ms. Prince already begins discussing about e.e. cummings’ poem, _l(a_. Kara gives Lena a glance before looking down at her copy.

_l(a_

_le_  
_af  
_ _fa_

_ll_

_s)_  
_one  
_ _l_

_iness_

 

“It’s a lonely poem,” Ms. Prince begins with a sad smile, and she looks at her students before fixing her gaze on Kara. The blonde swallows thickly. “Any thoughts, Ms. Danvers?”

Kara stammers for words. “I, um, agree that it’s a lonely poem? Each part of it, in a way, signifies solitude.” She bites her lip and looks down at her paper, remembers Krypton. She puffs her cheeks with air.  “The l’s look like I’s, _le,_ one. All pertaining to… Well, oneness.”

Ms. Prince nods and goes on to say that the original poem was printed across a blank page, highlighting its explicit loneliness as well as its unique form, something that potential writers could learn from.

All Kara could really think about were the years in her pod, lost in space, where she was left alone in limbo with no home or family to call her own.

She breaks her pen in hand and it bleeds against her pants, but she quickly hides it away as several other students contribute to the discussion.

Kara does notice, however, that Lena doesn’t speak. Kara could hear her hum every so often or even make an small, incredulous noise sometimes, but she doesn’t say anything about her thoughts. Kara kind of feels like she was invading her privacy, listening in like that, but her super-hearing seemed to fixate on the woman and Kara, try as she might, kept returning to her like her true North. It’s almost maddening.

She hears Lena’s sigh, words clear as day despite being whispered to herself: _Loneliness. Hm._

;

Ms. Prince gives them a quick exercise for the coming week—a simple poem, no expectations, just something anyone could share to the class. She smiles, that warm smile that makes Kara feel _soft,_ and maybe it was only fitting that she finds her muse in her.

She nervously wonders if Ms. Prince knows this, when she calls Kara to ask if she had anything to share to the class come the following week.

Kara gapes for a moment, then nods and looks at her notebook where she scribbled a few lines:

 

_The wind was playing with her hair. While her feet, with no effort at all, pretended not to touch the floor. Her lips were smiling, just like my eyes. She passed by. The time stopped. And, to my eyes, she was the only one passing by._

 

“Thank you, Ms. Danvers.” Ms. Prince smiles at her. Kara feels a weird flutter in her chest at it. They don’t delve much into her poem; Ms. Prince asks the class what they think and Quinn says Kara sounds smitten, before the professor looks around in the room.

“Ms. Luthor?” Ms. Prince calls. Kara looks behind her towards the direction of her classmate. Lena is seated at the back as usual, her hair up in a messy bun this time, in a soft-looking cashmere sweater that makes Kara want to _touch._ She shakes away the thought as soon as it made itself known. “Do you have anything?”

Lena chews on her lip before hesitantly shrugging. “I do, actually,” she says, then smiles tightly. “Um.” She fidgets with her notebook and spares Kara a glance for a moment before she looks down to read:

 

_I_

_\- The one from the waves_  
_From the salty ocean_  
_Who doesn't like the sweetness -_

_Would lose myself completely in your waters_

_Blending mine_  
_And yours_

 _We would become one_  
_Two_  
_Multiple_

_Waves of freshwater_

 

“Interesting,” Ms. Prince says, and Kara watches her think for a while before gesturing to the class to ask what they think. There’s mostly silence, but Kara’s sensitive ears catch someone—a comparative lit major named Lily, someone who Kara thinks is a Lanothian—murmuring that the work is impersonal.

Kara replays Lena’s reading in her mind even as someone else read their poem. When she looks to the back of the room, she catches sight of Lena fidgeting with her pen, scribbling and writing down words like she heard what Lily said and is working to revise her work. Kara wants to read her poem, or maybe hear Lena read it again—her voice is calming, Kara thinks, and she finds herself closing her eyes and focusing on Lena’s steady breathing.

At least, until Kara realizes what she’s doing and her eyes fly open and she almost breaks off the arm of her chair.

_Stupid super hearing._

Most days she could control it, but hearing is such a basic sense that it’s unstoppable sometimes. Her x-ray vision could be stopped with the glasses Jeremiah gave her. She could control her strength by _not_ touching anything and being very, _very_ careful, and along with the constant reminder in the form of Alex’s pained cry when Kara broke her hand when they were younger, it’s easy to deal with.

Hearing, on the other hand, was a whole different kind of ballgame. She remembers the excruciating nights of hearing even the slightest rustle of the tree outside of her bedroom like it was screaming in her ears, and it never seemed to quieten until Alex sang to her. The trick, she had learned, was to focus on something else.

It’s difficult when Lena seems to be pulling her in.

Kara manages, though barely. Half of her notes are useless scribbles but she does catch Ms. Prince’s assignment on reading about imagery, Eliot, and Pound.

When she dismisses the class, Kara means to go to Lena again, maybe to ask for a copy of her poem so she could dissect and dive into it—surely there are parts of it she can read more into—but before she could, Lena is out of the door again, off to run to her next class.

Kara considers running after her, but instead, she settles with watching her leave.

“The gooey eyes have to stop, Kara,” she hears from beside her, and when Kara turns to look it’s Quinn, smirking after Lena’s form before looking at the blonde. “Honestly. It’s like watching me back in high school again.”

“I don’t know what you’re ta—” Kara furrows her eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Quinn just sighs before patting Kara’s shoulder twice. “You’ll get there.” A wince. “Soon, I hope.”

Her wince vanishes as she looks ahead and Quinn grins so brightly, all of a sudden, so out of character from all the goth and leather, and when Kara glances to where she’s looking, she finds a short brunette wearing an even shorter skirt.

“Rach!” Quinn calls out, then she pats Kara again. “Later, blondie,” she says, then she is running towards the brunette—Rach. _Hey baby,_ Quinn greets when they meet halfway, and Kara blushes before turning quickly, feeling like she was intruding in a tender moment.

_Huh._

;

Thankfully, Kara’s IJ class that day is more on consultation and work on the investigative project they would be tackling for the sem. Her shortlist includes Anna Delvey’s exploits, President Marsdin’s Alien Amnesty Act, and the whole sea of red tape created by medical corporations in National City, but even with only three topics, she still hasn’t taken a pick.

She can’t stop thinking about Lena’s voice and the ocean.

“Well,” Kara sighs, crossing out Anna Delvey’s name off her notebook. The Amnesty Act might be a topic too personal for her, too. She crosses it out as well, then stares at the words on the paper. “Sea of red tape it is.”

;

The next meeting, the class talks about imagery and flow, _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_ and _In a Station of the Metro—_ works long and short and still overflowing with meaning. Kara has read them over and over during the lull of the past days and can’t help but remember the chaos during Krypton’s last day in _the apparition of these faces in the crowd,_ the ghosts she still sees when she closes her eyes.

Of course, she doesn’t speak of this; instead she mentions the economy of words and the quickness of the poem passing by, much like a train.

Lena, for once, contributes to the discussion, much to Ms. Prince’s surprise as well.

“I think it’s as lonely and as isolated as the cummings poem we discussed,” she says with a shrug, “though this work is particularly more modern.” She proceeds to talk about modern poetry and compares Eliot to Siken, _laughs,_ then Hozier, and Kara is lost for a moment in the surprisingly delightful sound before turning to Quinn to ask who Hozier was.

;

On her way home, Kara buys a copy of _Crush_ to read. Alex, hunched over the study desk in the living room—had it moved from her bedroom because she’s farther from the temptation of a bed—and swamped with books and highlighters, asks if she could borrow it, and Kara tells her she could, once she finished all the med readings she had to get done.

That night, Alex’s huffs and mutterings about the scientific names of body parts drown away as Kara reads. She cries to _you will be alone always and then you will die_ and _your mother is pretending that she hasn’t seen anything_ and _then it’s gone, makes you sad, all your friends are gone, goodbye, goodbye_ and _I just don't want to die anymore._

Hozier finds his way to Kara’s playlist on her route to class, and she begins to understand a little what Lena means about _The Love Song_ and Siken. Though Hozier isn’t her usual kind of music, his lyricism move her to the point of tears for _my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake_ reminds her of Krypton, its ruins left in stars, and in the memories in Kara’s mind. How she sometimes feels like she shouldn’t have survived because _what for?_ After all, Kal-El never needed her.

Kara wonders which of all these words make Lena _feel—_ before realizing that she should really put a halt on this _interest_ on the woman, aware how it all seems when she does this from a distance.

;

“Didn’t know you listened to Hozier,” Alex says as she walks into the kitchen one morning, groggy from coffee and the little sleep she got from the night before. _She’d give me toothaches just from kissin' me_ plays softly from Kara’s phone as she shrugs and hands her sister a plate of toast and jam.

“Lena kind of suggest it,” Kara says, before shoving a spoonful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

Alex raises an eyebrow at that. “Lena?”

Kara swallows and hums. “A classmate from poetry class,” she says, before standing to grab a mug. “You still want coffee?”

Nodding, Alex takes a bite of her toast. “You know, there’s a joke about Hozier being occasionally possessed by the soul of an Irish lesbian witch,” she says with a laugh.

Kara laughs too, even if she doesn’t really get it, then hands her sister her mug of coffee. “Try not to die of caffeine overdose, okay?”

;

Kara’s majors are going as well as expected: Hellish. She likes the challenge though. Snapper Carr is a prof as brutal as Cat Grant was painfully frank, and though most of her articles return to her crying bloody murder with red ink, Kara _enjoys_ it.

It gives her little time to dwell on other things, like the fires that happened the city over, or how she could have easily helped, or how she has to relive her mother telling her that she could defend _herself_ in this planet. It’s selfish, she knows, but Alex and Eliza and Jeremiah are right—for her own safety and for those around her, despite the urge to go help, she _can’t._

It gives her little time to work on the assignment given for poetry and tone that week, too, but that she can better handle. After all, it’s easy to put thoughts on paper when you have so much of them in your head. For Kara, they are dizzying thoughts that ache, sometimes. Other times they manifest as nightmares, of memories and visions of her time in that tiny pod, of watching Krypton explode before drowning in the darkness of space.

She wakes up from this same nightmare one early morning. Or 2:12AM, her clock reads. Drenched in sweat and shaking, the first thing she does is reach for the pen and paper she keeps on her bedside table—tools a therapist from Midvale suggested that could help. It does, for the most part. Kara calms herself with deep breaths and scribbles, breaks her pen but keeps going.

When she finishes, she rolls out of bed with still trembling hands and heads to the kitchen to get some water. She finds Alex studying, like always, and her sister looks at her worriedly like she knows what happened.

She does. She has witnessed Kara this same way a million times before.

“I’m okay,” Kara assures with a smile. “You keep…” She waves at Alex’s books. “Suffering there.”

Alex laughs lightly at her but nods in understanding. Instead of heading back to bed, Kara joins her. Alex automatically hands her the book she is perusing, saying _muscle names_ before pointing to a section. Kara thanks her with a soft smile for the distraction then begins to review her sister for her recit.

Coffee and breakfast is made later, even if it was barely the crack of dawn, and Eliza calls as if she knows what happened to Kara.

Kara is thankful that though she may have lost her home and her family, she managed to find a new one. At night, when she prays to Rao, she talks to her mother, too; tells her that she is right, Kara is stronger in this planet, but not because of the yellow sun, but because of the family she found.

;

The haphazard notes from her nightmare gives birth to the piece she turns over as her assignment that week. It needs a little work and if Kara was being honest, it seemed too… _personal,_ but that was what most works are, right?

When Ms. Prince looks for volunteers, she scans the room first. No one dares raise their hand, but then the professor is looking at Kara with _that_ smile that has the blonde raising hers.

”Alright, Ms. Danvers,” Ms. Prince says, gesturing to the front of the class. “Please read yours.”

Kara goes to the front and sighs softly. She looks down at her paper and reads:

 

 _It's done_  
_That's my reality now_  
_And no matter how much I sleep_  
_I'm always waking up to this nightmare_  
_This nightmare where I'm alone_  
_Where all I'm able to hear is a scared voice_  
_The voice of a little girl_  
_Screaming  
"I want my mum"_

A heartbeat spikes in the room and without looking, Kara knows it’s Lena. She gives the woman a glance and finds wide green eyes on her. With Lena’s racing pulse in her ears, Kara continues with a sharp sigh—

 _Do you know how torturing that is?_  
_I can tell you_  
_I have her voice inside my head_  
_From sunrise to sunrise_  
_And it. Is. Killing. Me._  
_There's nothing I can do_  
_Nothing I can say_  
_So I go back to bed again_  
_She's not crying in my dreams_  
_In my dreams_  
_I don't scream the pain away_

 

Kara takes a shuddering breath and looks up nervously, only to meet Lena’s gaze again. She looks like something cracked open in her, light and sadness shining through, and Kara worries this time but can’t really do anything but sit down. Ms. Prince thanks her before looking around the room for opinions on tone and imagery like previously discussed because _oh right,_ that was what she is here for, but all Kara could really focus on is the sound of Lena’s pounding heartbeat finally slowing down.

For some godforsaken reason, when class ends, Kara makes sure she runs after Lena before she could vanish like other days before. She tells herself its the sadness in Lena’s eyes.

“Hey,” Kara calls out, falling in step with Lena’s pace. The woman seems surprised it her heartbeat was any indication, but Kara forces herself to focus. She smiles. “Sorry if this is prying, but I, uh- are you okay?”

Lena looks at her, as if she is surprised, but she slows her pace and laughs. Awkwardly. Her heartbeat continues to race and Kara suddenly regrets holding her up if it means she would be this anxious about talking.

Timing isn’t Kara’s strong suit.

“I should be asking you that,” Lena says with a small smile.  “But I’m okay.” She turns towards the stairs and pauses like she is seeing if Kara would follow. Kara does, of course.

“Okay. That’s good,” Kara says dumbly. She fidgets with her glasses. “It’s just that… You seemed… You know. Earlier. While I was reading.”

Lena laughs. It’s much softer and now and less awkward, like she realized why Kara approached her. “You have a way with words, what can I say?”

That makes Kara stop. Halfway to the descent to the ground floor, she stops, but Lena goes on ahead. Kara blinks, then runs after her, chuckling nervously. “Really?”

Lena smiles. She wraps her arms around the book she held and nods. “Yeah. The better poems are those that make us feel, right?”

It’s impossible to stop the grin that overtakes Kara’s features—she _beams,_ and it might be contagious because Lena is smiling wider now too, and before Kara could really think about it, she is speaking again.

“Do you want to get coffee sometime?” She asks. Her hands fidget with the strap of her messenger bag. “Or study together. Um. I don’t mind either, really.”

When Lena’s face falls, Kara already hears the rejection. She suddenly wants the earth to swallow her whole but then Lena is fishing something from her backpack. Then she is scribbling on a piece of paper all of a sudden, but before Kara could excuse herself, Lena is handing her said piece of paper.

“I have class,” Lena says, “in the BE building. So if you’re still interested after, well, today, let me know.”

Then she’s running off, muttering _shit_ and _fuck please let Prof. Valentin be late for once!_ under her breath, and Kara is left to stare at the messy scribble of digits on the piece of paper that she is sure from their readings.


	2. Chapter 2

Kara doesn’t exactly know what to do with Lena’s number. She _hasn’t_ really gotten anyone’s number before, in any context similar to _well, maybe I do have gay interest in you,_ and oh Rao, Alex is going to _combust_ when she finds out.

She doesn’t get the chance to text Lena though, because James is calling to see if she wanted to get lunch with Winn and catch up, then Iris is inviting her to some talk at the Econ building which they could both use for their IJ projects, and then her classes, and by the time Kara has time to text Lena again, she can’t find the piece of paper she had her number. She feels dumb for losing that stupid piece of paper and it must show, because when Alex comes home, lugging her backpack tiredly, she heads to where Kara is huddled on the couch with ice cream and a _Chuck_ binge.

“Crinkle,” Alex says, tapping between Kara’s furrowed eyebrows. She sits beside Kara and gives her a tight hug. “What happened?”

_Nothing_ slips out of Kara before she could stop herself, but Alex just hums and waits patiently. Kara sighs. “I did something dumb today.”

She doesn’t say anything else, so Alex just nods. “Did you finally ask that girl from poetry but she said she’s straight?”

Thankfully, Kara has more grasp of her powers now, because otherwise, Alex would definitely have been thrown across the room when Kara pulls away to stare at her. “How- That’s not- How did you even—”

“Well, you’re not subtle,” Alex  says with a shrug. She takes the pint of ice cream in Kara’s hand and spoons some into her mouth. “And all you’ve ever really talked about when you talk is your majors _and_ that girl.”

“I talked about her _once._ And I _didn’t_ ask her out,” Kara immediately defends. Alex raises an eyebrow and Kara realizes that she hasn’t  actually come out to her sister—and, crap, is she coming out? She has never actually thought about the whole sexuality thing—it wasn’t a thing on Krypton, after all, and even _attraction_ wasn’t a thing on Krypton because marriages aren’t based on feelings but logic—and that whole semester of maybe thinking Lucy was maddeningly attractive wasn’t a fluke, at all.

“She gave me her number and I lost it.”

_“She_ gave you her number?”

“I asked her for a study date.” Kara sighs. “She told me the poem I wrote was good and then I asked her for a study date. I didn’t ask her out _out._ It’s a study thing. Like the ones you go to with Sam.”

“Huh.” Alex blinks, like this is a conundrum she can’t figure out. Kara just shrugs and finishes her pint, then puts it on the coffee table where two already empty ones sat. “Well, you’ll see her next week, right?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “Hopefully she’s… I don’t know anymore.” A moment of silence. “So I think I’m bi, maybe.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kara,” Alex assures, patting her head. “It’s all about you, this whole thing. You don’t have to label yourself right now, or like, at all.” She clears her throat and fidgets in the way that reminds Kara of when she came out. “But um. Speaking of labels and Sam, by the way…”

;

Kara goes out with Alex and Sam that weekend for movies and dinner, and Kara keeps bringing up that she can’t _believe_ she ever believed Alex’s excuse for _study dates._ After all, Sam is taking up her Master’s on Business Ad, so how does a Med student and an MBA student find common subjects to have study dates for?

“We were lesbianing together,” Alex drawls with a roll of her eyes, and Kara just throws a fry at her direction.

“I’m happy for you both, though,” Kara genuinely says. Kara likes Sam, has liked her since Alex introduced her as a fellow volunteer at the orphanage near campus last sem, and Kara likes them together—they look at each other the way poets would describe love in someone’s eyes and hold each other’s hands like they could conquer the world together and maybe they could, if they tried, but their world is each other. “But for the record, you two are so gross.”

;

The next week comes and it’s still hell and red ink for Kara, save for poetry. Assignments are read out again, and Gary goes  first. Lena is fifteen minutes late today, all flushed and panting when she arrives in class with a paper bag of what sounded like glass. She doesn’t look at Kara when she heads to the seat at the back.

Kara’s heart sinks, of course. Damn her stupidity and that dumb piece of paper.

“Ms. Luthor?” Ms. Prince calls out half an hour later, when the class is done critiquing Gary’s poem about men and apes and time travel. “Do you have your work ready?”

Lena nods and says yes, and when Ms. Prince gestures for her to read in front, she takes a deep breath that only Kara could hear.

She sighs before reading:

 

_Life - sometimes - happens too early_  
_Too scary_  
_And - sometimes - it is too much for a little girl_  
_Something happen_  
_And then she's not allowed to be - just- a little girl anymore_  
_Sometimes - life - happens too early_  
_Too soon_  
_Too cruel_  
_Life  
\- sometimes - is too much_

 

There is silence in the room for a moment. Lena awkwardly clears her throat before heading back to her seat. When Ms. Prince asks for feedback, Lily _of course_ has the first say, but it doesn’t seem like Lena is interested in listening.

Kara remembers the last time, the way Lena looked at her like she spoke of words that cut, and Kara begins to understand—because _this nightmare where I'm alone where all I'm able to hear is a scared voice, the voice of a little girl_ is very much like _she's not allowed to be - just- a little girl anymore_ and maybe, just maybe, she and Lena have some things in common, after all.

She runs after Lena, after class. The glasses Lena has in that paper bag she holds clink, and Kara calls out for her nervously.

Lena pauses. Her heartbeat races too, and again, Kara wonders if she makes Lena nervous.

“This is going to sound dumb,” Kara starts, because she still feels foolish about it, “but I lost your number like an actual idiot and that’s actually the reason why I didn’t text you.” A sigh. “Honest.”

Lena _laughs._ She laughs, like that time she spoke of Siken, and all Kara remembers is _hello darling, welcome home_ and _we’ve got nothing left to lose,_ and when Lena asks Kara to hold out her hand, the blonde offers her right one without asking questions.

Lena holds Kara’s hand with her own—soft, warm, and Kara short-circuits for a moment because okay, wow, even if she isn’t sure she is gay she is certain she _is_ if only for Lena—and then there is the smooth, tickling slide of metal on Kara’s palm.

“Hopefully you don’t lose that,” Lena says, “or we might encounter problems. You know. In the future.” She laughs again and lets Kara’s hand go but leaves her tingling warmth, then she is running off to her next class.

Lena’s words lost on her, Kara stares at her right hand, digits scribbled as messily like last time on paper. This time, there’s a looping L under it, and Kara grins. When she looks up, Lena is gone, but Kara can still see the way she smiled.

;

It takes Kara exactly seven tries until she finally came up with an acceptable first text to Lena. For a person supposedly good with words— _she’s a communications major for Rao’s sake—_ Kara terribly sucks at this.

_Hi. :) This is Kara from your poetry class._

Unassuming, introductory, efficient. She sends it before she could overthink—for the seventh time—then hides her phone at the bottom of her bag as if she couldn’t feel the earth vibrate against her feet, as if she couldn’t rip everything to shreds.

_Good to know you didn’t lose your hand._

Relief floods Kara at the reply, and she laughs out loud that she startles everyone in the library and gets a legendary _shh!_ from Ms. Chloe the MassComm librarian. It takes her three other tries for a text to ask Lena about that study date.

_I can’t,_ Lena replies, but it’s followed quickly with _I have lab and some org work this week, rain check maybe?_ before Kara could be sad about it and she walks on clouds for the rest of the day.

;

Kara thinks about it, after her data journ class and Ms. Grant’s speech about how _you have to doubt every single information you have until you substantiate it with at least one source, and even then you’re treading dangerous waters_ —how Lena could talk of cruel life and laugh like there are flowers in her heart, but Kara remembers that one time during a sorority mixer she was invited to, where she laughed at a joke and a guy from PhysEd told her how she is the happiest person he met and _wow,  it must be nice not to have any problems._

Alex almost punched him, but Kara shrugged it off and grinned instead of saying things like _well, all my friends and family are dead_ with a sarcastic laugh, maybe, or _my planet is ash now but thanks!_

Sadness blooms even in the brightest of places, Kara knows. It makes her think of Lena and the sadness amidst the bright green of her eyes, and that night they turn into words on paper that no one else would read—

 

_She told me she was a jar._  
_Like the ones you put flowers in...  
And I thought it was a beautiful thing to be._

_But then, she continued_  
_"I was beautiful you know?_  
_Every corner of the house had my perfume_  
_In fact, at some point, I was useful_  
_Now, there are dead petals around_  
_And sludge inside me_  
_If you throw away the dirty water_  
_The thorny stem_  
_The jar will remain_  
_An empty jar_  
_A jar.  
Empty."_

_And then I thought to myself  
_ _She was the most beautiful sadness I have ever seen._

 

;

Ms. Prince isn’t around next meeting—something about a conference in Paris—but she lets another prof, a certain Arthur Curry, sub for her. He’s a nice guy, pretty chill, and for the class they end up deconstructing several of Shakespearean sonnets “for fun,” he said.

It _is_ amusing, to say the least. Lily was understandably a fan of the Bard, and everyone else contributes to the discussion—which involves praise for Shakespeare, of course. Except Lena’s points. She counters everyone’s praise with sharp wit and a satisfied smirk like she takes joy in debate and Kara can’t help but smile to herself, because it’s one thing to be beautiful, but Lena is something else entirely.

_You should have seen Lily’s face earlier when you said that Shakespeare was gay,_ Kara texts that night.

Lena replies three hours later, just when Kara was about to go to sleep, with an apology about being stuck in a lab—some biotech experiment she assists for,  she tells Kara—and says _Sir Ian McKellen himself said Will is bi, and who are we to argue with that?,_ along with a smiley that makes Kara smile.

“Is that Lena?”

Kara almost jumps at her sister’s voice. She glares at the woman by her doorway and hides her phone. “Maybe. Why?”

Alex grins and shrugs. “Just asking. Anyway, I’m going out with Sam—”

“It’s almost midnight,” Kara interrupts.

Alex waves a hand. “We’re going stargazing.”

“That’s horrifyingly romantic,” the blonde grins, and Alex just rolls her eyes.

“Yeah? So’s smiling at your phone because of a text.” She laughs as if in victory before yelling _good night_ and shutting Kara’s bedroom door. Kara calls out _take care_ after her and shakes her head fondly, then returns her full attention to her phone.

So what if Lena makes her smile?

;

Ms. Prince is back next meeting and they return to their own works and imagery. The first hour of class is critique and feedback on Quinn and Charlie, whose work was lovely and honestly moving as it was explicit.

Kara is torn between volunteering to read hers and sitting today for once that she fiddles with the page of her notebook until it’s almost time for dismissal.

“Ms. Danvers,” Ms. Prince calls, a smile on her face as she looks at Kara. The student stops fidgeting with her paper and looks up. “Would you like to read yours?”

“I—” Kara gapes for a second and Ms. Prince only smiles, stepping aside from where she stands in front of her desk to move. Kara clears her throat and nods, then stands to take her notebook with her. The corner of the page is curled with how much she played with it in the past hour.

Her eyes lock with Lena’s for a moment and Kara’s throat dries. She licks her lips and sighs, dragging her eyes back to her notebook.

 

_I wish she was beautiful,_ she starts, and her voice cracks as she sees Lena lean forward in her periphery.

_And by beautiful I mean_ just _beautiful_  
_But her skin takes me to the warm sunlight we get on those nice days of winter_  
_And her voice makes my stomach flip_  
_With way more animals than just butterflies_

_I wish she was_ just _beautiful_

_But she knows exactly when to hug me_  
_And when to let go_  
_Making me wish_  
_Miss  
And want her touch_

_God, I wish she was_ just _beautiful_

_But she likes lemon pie, you know?_  
_And I love the bittersweet on my lips_  
_I love how she knows how to balance_  
_The honey on her mouth  
And the poison on her eyes_

_With_ just _beautiful I can function_  
_I can flirt  
And I can play_

_But with her_  
_I'm melting_  
_Getting everything wet_  
_Craving_  
_Longing_  
_And she can have me_  
_In her hands_  
_On a red and white towel  
Anytime she pleases_

_Because she's_ just _more  
_ _Than_ just _beautiful_

 

Kara closes her notebook with a soft sigh and looks at Ms. Prince, who smiles as if she was satisfied with herself. “Thank you, Ms. Danvers,” she says, then turns to class for their thoughts. “Ms. Luthor?”

The blonde almost trips on her way back to her seat. Almost. She sits and takes her pen, ready to write down whatever feedback she would be given though her senses focus on Lena.

“I think Kara’s… inspired,” Lena says, and the class agrees with a soft laugh. “But I particularly liked how the words set up the imagery in more than just the visual sense. There’s, ah, sight, touch, taste.”

Kara didn’t even realize she paid _that_ much attention, but it makes her conscious now, because, _Rao,_ does she know that Kara wrote it with _her_ in mind?

_“I_ think you should get laid,” Quinn whispers beside her, and Kara almost snaps her pen in half in embarrassment at that but she only glares at the pink-haired woman. Quinn laughs.

For once, Lena isn’t out the door as soon as Ms. Prince dismisses them. She seems to wait for Kara by the doorway, immediately falling in step with the blonde as she walks out of the room.

“She likes lemon pie?” Lena asks with a smile.

Kara coyly grins. “You don’t?”

Lena shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m more into chocolate pecan pie, to be honest,” she says, and then she’s walking past Kara. “I do have to run though. Class.”

Then she’s running off, _again._

Chocolate pecan pie. Kara lets out a deep sigh, smile on her features as she stays rooted to where Lena left her.

_Crap._

;

Alex is home when Kara arrives at the apartment. Her sister is already slaving over her readings. Her laptop is on and Kara notices she is on Skype with Sam.

“Hey Alex, hey Sam,” she greets with a cheery smile. She puts down the Chinese takeout on the dinner table. “I got us food!”

“You sound disgustingly happy,” Alex calls out from the study desk. She turns to Kara with narrowed eyes. “Why do I have a feeling this has to do with that punk classmate of yours you have a crush on?”

“She’s not a punk,” Kara defends, but she ends it at that and Alex beams just as Sam exclaims _oh my god!_ from the laptop.

“Did you finally ask her out?” Alex asks.

Kara shakes her head as she pulls out the potstickers from the bag. “Not yet,” she says with a shrug. “I have her number though, and- whatever, shouldn’t you be studying?”

Alex giggles. “Alright, chill, baby gay.”

“I’m going to melt your head off,” Kara says absent-mindedly, but then she remembers Sam is online with Alex. “Dinner, Sam?” She quickly adds, before waving at the direction  of the woman even if she isn’t sure she could see.

“Thanks, Kar,” Sam says, then laughs again. “Good luck on asking out your girl though.”

“She is _not_ my girl,” Kara huffs, but she blushes at the thought anyway.

;

Prof. Urich approves Kara’s topic on National City medical policies. He also commends her proposal and gives her a heads-up about the actual red tape she would have to get through to get the documents she’ll need for her article.

Kara has never been _so_ excited.

;

Come next meeting, Lena actually volunteers to read her own piece. Kara is pleasantly surprised and she is practically at the edge of her seat to listen to Lena’s words, but she is first floored by what the woman is wearing—unlike her usual shirts or sweaters, today Lena looks especially sharp with her fitting dress shirt, slacks, and oxfords, an ensemble Kara would wear if she was going somewhere important.

_The sweetness I'll get from the women on my bed,_ Lena begins, and Kara chokes on air but she notices Lena smile.

_The salt, heavy on my food_  
_So allow me_  
_For all I know  
I need, and want, my poetry to be bitter_

 

Kara takes it as a sign, more than anything. She barely pays attention to the critique to Lena’s poem and Ms. Prince talking about  their coming discussions on metaphors and other figures of speech. When class is dismissed, Kara has to force herself to _not fly out the room,_ to chase Lena.

“Lena! I, uh—” Kara clears her throat and shoves her hands into her hoodie and _Rao,_ she isn’t dressed decently enough to be asking actual goddess Lena Luthor out on a _date_ date, especially with what Lena is wearing, but she just needs to get this over with. “I was wondering if you’d be free to, um, go for that- that coffee. Or stu—” Kara sighs. “Dinner, maybe. If you’re free.”

Lena smiles. “I was wondering when you’d ask again.”

Kara chuckles nervously. “Never quite found a good time until now.” She bites her lip. “So that’s a yes, I hope?”

“You have my number, right?”

Kara nods. Lena grins, then bobs her head to the direction of the stairs.  “Good. I have a presentation to go to, but… You can text me the details.”

Lena walks away, and Kara has to consciously stop herself from floating.

;

Kara has to consciously stop herself from accidentally breaking something. It’s been hours since she has asked Lena out on a date but she still hasn’t texted Lena _anything_ about their plans. One, because she doesn’t _exactly_ know what Lena would like—aside from science, poetry, kale, and Hozier, Kara doesn’t know what she likes, and though dates might be a good time to get to know a person, Kara feels the need to impress. Or at least, have a memorable first date. Add to that the challenge of fitting a memorable date with her allowance—and savings, maybe, but no one has to know about that.

She settles with a simple dinner at the Italian place near campus grounds and a  walk-through of the night exhibit at the university quad. She tells Lena of this, hesitance and nerves on her fingertips as she waited for the woman’s response that when her phone vibrates, she almost crushes it in her hand.

_Sounds good, but when?_

Oh _crap._ Right. Kara groans and quickly types a response.

_Dinner tomorrow at six?_

_I’ll see you there then. :)_

;

To say Kara is off the rails with nerves and excitement was an understatement. After making the reservations, she tried to busy herself with her articles due and even volunteered to review Alex—who seemed to suspect something but didn’t really say anything.

Come the next day, Kara does her best to focus on her classes. Lena texts her after lunch with _See you later_ that makes Kara feel like she was walking on clouds again.

She comes back to the apartment after class to change out of the _break news not hearts_ tee she wore that day. She puts on a fitting pale blue polo sweater, tucked neatly in dark navy pants, and wears brown leather oxfords that match her belt.

“You look nice,” Alex says from her bedroom door with a proud little smirk that has Kara sighing.

“Is that an honest opinion?” She asks, fidgeting with her glasses before looking at herself on the mirror again.

“Yup,” Alex grins. “I know you don’t get cold, but you should bring a coat.”

Kara takes a deep breath and turns to her sister. “Thanks.”

Alex nods. “Try not to freeze your drinks.”

“I’ll _try._ ”

;

“I’ve always liked your statement tees,” is Lena’s first words as she sees Kara walking towards the restaurant. Kara flushes at the sight of her—Lena has her hair down and is wearing a black dress that fits her curves rather nicely, on her arm what looks like a dark blue coat, and it takes a moment for Kara to drag her eyes back up, but it’s already too late for that. Lena smirks at her.

Kara looks down at her outfit instead, then fiddles with her glasses. “You don’t like it?” She asks with a small laugh.

Lena smirks. “Oh, I like it very much.”

Kara laughs, much more heartfelt this time, though her ears burn because she doesn’t remember Lena this… brazen. Then again, this is the same woman who sharply insisted that _the dark lady is promiscuous but so what?_ “Have you been waiting long?” Kara asks.

“I just arrived,” Lena says. Kara could hear her heartbeat and she feels bad about it, but it’s comforting to know that Kara isn’t the only one _nervous._ “Let’s go?”

;

Dinner becomes easy. With poetry being the only class they share, there is a lot of things to talk about—Kara’s journ classes, Ms. Prince’s class, Lena’s majors, which spark Kara’s interest differently because those are things she learned when she was seven under the Science Guild and here was a human who understood the terms not even Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers could comprehend. Heartbeats slow and food is shared and _Kara Danvers does not share._

“What do you know about quantum entanglement?” Lena asks much later, when their plates are empty of the chocolate pecan pie they ordered, her green eyes brighter than Kara has ever seen before; Kara has to remind herself that she’s a journalism major, not someone from an advanced civilization who had Earth’s version of calculus when she was four years old.

“Quantum what?” Kara says, leaning forward with a grin that matched Lena’s, and the way Lena lights up feels like the day Kara crash-landed on Earth—she is approaching an unfamiliar territory and all she has is _hope._

“Well. Einstein said it’s spooky action at a distance,” Lena says with a casual shrug. “How two particles could be intimately linked despite billions of lightyears between them,” she continues. “A change induced in one will affect the other.”

Kara _knows_ what quantum entanglement is but all she can think about is Krypton, her twenty years in limbo, and how, despite all that, here she is at dinner with one Lena Luthor.

“It’s much better appreciated when described in the sense of soulmates,” Lena adds quickly, as if she is scared that her mumbling would bore Kara. “Science’s version of the red string of fate.”

_“You_ believe in soulmates?” Kara grins.

“Quantum entanglement, Ms. Danvers,” Lena says. She takes a sip of her wine and looks at Kara, then smiles—it draws one from Kara too, and for the first time the scientist in her asks if _this_ was how entanglement manifests. “Do you?”

Kara shrugs. “I think it’s nice to think that someone out there is made for you, you know?”

“Always pegged you as a romantic,” Lena muses.

Kara chuckles. “Your idea of quantum entanglement makes me think you are, too.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, one that reminds Kara of their first meeting. “Touché.”

;

Dinner lasts longer than Kara expected, though it extends a few more minutes as they argued who would pay, until Lena relents and says _the next one is on me_ and Kara beams at the promise.

They walk to the exhibit Kara talked about. Lena shares that she knows one of the FA majors whose works are on display. The night is oddly a little warm, even for Kara, and they make their way with their coats off,  side by side and close enough that Kara thinks their arms touch.

Lena’s heartbeat races all over, though Kara isn’t entirely sure if it’s indeed her or herself.

They reach the quad where different installations are set up, lit with bright colorful lights and set up with quiet ambient music. The whole exhibit is uncreatively titled _Enlighten,_ because of the lights, but there isn’t much of a theme—one installation is a projection of Van Gogh’s _Starry Night_ on a dome of kites, while the other is a huge shiny cube that changes color every thirteen seconds that reminds Kara of The Shiny Bean— _Cloud Gate,_ Lena corrects with a laugh, but Kara doesn’t mind playing dumb if it meant Lena laughing like _that._

One of the exhibits is a display of a human-sized faceless pig, with little houses lit in front of it. Kara looks over to the write up to see what it’s about but Lena giggles before she could.

“What’s funny?” Kara can’t help but ask. There’s a smile of fondness on her lips and the way Lena grins at her seems enough reason to travel billions of lightyears for.

“It’s kind of a pun,” Lena says. “There’s a Chinese character for _home_ made of the characters for _roof_ and _pig,”_ she explains, then gestures to the installation.

Kara laughs at that, but she also checks the write-up placed near the artwork and wow, Lena is right. “So you speak Chinese?” Kara asks curiously.

At that, Lena sheepishly grins.  “A little.”

A disbelieving chuckle escapes Kara at that and she looks at Lena in wonder because _Rao,_ of course, she can’t be _just_ beautiful, and she just can’t be _too brilliant._ “Honestly, what can’t you do?”

“Top,” Lena says seriously, then bursts into laughter that Kara can’t help but echo.

They walk around the rest of the exhibit, quietly chatting and critiquing the works like they are art experts. Kara learns that the only thing more beautiful than Lena herself is her laugh.

The first droplet lands squarely in front of Kara. She hears it, annoyingly amplified, and she stares at the dark wet blotch on the ground before looking up at the evening sky. She feels the raindrops on her face, hears Lena’s soft _of course it fucking rains,_ and she turns to the woman just as the downpour begins.

They run. They laugh and they run away from the quad to the nearest shed, but the rain is unforgiving—Kara feels the water seep through her shirt, the fabric dark where it has soaked the rain. Kara sighs and looks out the shed. Distant figures run to their cars too, some opening umbrellas as they go on with their nights.

“Sorry,” Kara says, reaching out to feel the cold droplets on her palm. She smiles at Lena.  “I didn’t think it would rain today. Kinda messed everything up, didn’t it?”

Lena shrugs and playfully bumps her shoulders against Kara. The blonde doesn’t budge, of course, but she at least pretends to sway a bit. “It’s very memorable as far as first dates go,” Lena assures.

Kara laughs in relief. “We can wait for the rain to stop,” she suggests. A car breezes past them, blasting some N’SYNC song. “Or call for a cab.”

“I mean. We’re already wet.” Lena hums. Kara remembers words she has written once. “What do you think about dancing in the rain?”

Kara looks confused for a moment and turns to the woman. Lena steps into the rain, facing Kara, and grins. “Warm me like sunlight and soothe me like rain,” Lena whispers, and Kara isn’t entirely sure if she was supposed to hear that. Instead, she watches with a smile as Lena twirls in the rain, arms outstretched, face to the heavens, and it shouldn’t feel like coming home or like pieces falling into place but _it does._

She falls deep into Lena’s laughter and spell that she barely notices the speeding car. It beeps, and thank Rao for her speed; she quickly steps forward and pulls Lena into her. Kara lands on her ass on the ground and she is pretty sure she cracks the concrete but all she could really focus on is Lena on top of her—laughing like she hasn’t just _almost_ been hit by a car, hair and dress soaked and cheeks flushed, looking _so drunk_ with happiness that Kara can’t help but laugh with her.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks.

“I’m perfect,” Lena says, apprehension in her voice amplified by her racing heartbeat. “My place is nearby, by the way, if you want to stay warm for a while.”  

Kara never quite felt the urge to use her flight until now. Instead, she quietly swallows the cotton in her throat and helps Lena up. “Yeah,” she agrees, and Lena’s heartbeat spikes once more or maybe, it’s Kara’s own this time.

;

Lena wasn’t joking when she said her place is nearby. It’s an apartment unit in a midrise building just outside the university, which means it _didn’t_ come cheap, but Kara doesn’t bring it up. She lives alone, and when Kara sees the place, she realizes it’s much, _much_ bigger than her and Alex’s apartment as well.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Lena asks, draping her wet coat on one of her dining room chair.

“Oh. Yes please,” Kara agrees, looking around the place. There are bookshelves lining the walls and more books atop the TV stand and the coffee table. Everything is _neat,_ though, so unlike Kara’s bedroom. When she returns her attention to Lena, the woman is looking at her curiously. “I- Yes?”

“I have some clothes you can change into,” Lena says. “Before you catch pneumonia.”

Kara laughs but she doesn’t disagree, even if she can’t really catch _anything._ It’s endearing that Lena cares, but Kara realizes it’s because she doesn’t know about Kara, about what Kara truly is.

A sinking feeling sets in her gut. If all goes well with her and Lena, then she has to come clean about herself one day.

She follows Lena to her bedroom. It’s still neat and well-kept, lined with bookshelves much like the living room, though instead of movie and band posters like Kara had on her walls, Lena had schematics and theoretical illustrations like she was working on an experiment right in her bedroom.

Lena opens her closet and pulls out some sweatshirts Kara could choose from, then puts them on her bed. “Um. I’ll…” She trails off and Kara could hear her heart race again. Kara feels _guilty_ about it—it’s an invasion of Lena’s privacy after all. “I’ll let you change,” she says, then she is making a beeline to the door.

“Lena,” Kara calls out before Lena could leave. Lena turns, far too quickly like she wants Kara to want her to stay, and it feels too hot all of a sudden even if Kara isn’t supposed to feel temperature.

“Yeah?” Lena asks, breathless. Kara takes a step forward, closing the few feet between them, and she feels air leave her lungs. It’s tension, she knows, but all the rest is confusing—the urge to touch Lena, to pull her close like she did earlier minus the almost-getting-run-over-by-a-car thing, how she aches as Lena takes the next step closer.  She is smiling, and _Rao,_ she is beautiful beyond words, in a way no one with rain-soaked hair and dress has any right to be.

“I’m not made of steel, you know,” Kara whispers. Another step. Was it hers? Kara isn’t sure if she’s supposed to feel like she is burning. Another step. _Warm me like sunlight and soothe me like rain,_ she remembers Lena saying. Another step.

Then Lena is standing in front of her, a confident smile on her lips betrayed by her racing heartbeat. Her smile trembles as Kara takes a sharp breath in front of her.

“Would it be so bad to melt?” Lena asks. Kara clenches her hands into fists to stop them from shaking, to stop them from pulling Lena closer.

“You’re… dangerous,” Kara says, teasing and serious in one breath.

Lena’s smile turns mysterious. “Am I?”

Kara sigh, almost dreamily. “Your tongue is sharp and talks of wit and your eyes tell of both beauty and sadness, and I don’t know which of you I’m speaking to right now.”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Do you always talk like that?”

Kara opens her mouth but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she chuckles. “Would it be cliché if I say you bring it out of me?”

“You don’t just tell a girl she’s your muse, Ms. Danvers,” Lena shoots back with a little laugh. “You don’t know what that does to a girl.”

“Are you going to tell me then?”

“Depends.” Lena smiles. Carefully, as if she is terrified, she places her hands on Kara’s shoulders. “Would you like to find out?”

Kara swallows. “Yes.” She licks her lips and moves closer, enough so their noses brush, and she could see Lena’s eyes almost flutter shut, the smile on her lips. “I want to kiss you,” Kara finally manages.

Lena sighs, breath warm and delicate on Kara’s lips. “Please.”

So Kara does. She closes the hair’s breadth between them, her lips brushing against Lena until the woman moves too, pressing against Kara firmly as her arms wrap around Kara’s neck. The blonde’s hands settle on Lena’s waist, firm and trembling against her softness.

Hundreds of poets Kara has read and thousands of songs she has listened to talk about the magic of a first kiss, but none of them quite capture  the way everything in the world fell into silence—the sound of the rain on the roof, the vehicles in the streets, the whispers and murmurs of strangers all gone to leave only Lena’s heartbeat in her ears, her quivering softness on her fingertips. For all her supposed strength on this planet and its yellow sun, Kara feels vulnerable and she has never been so thankful to be taken apart and made whole by the way Lena touched her, like life made new.

;

Life is funny sometimes. Kara remembers the first day of poetry class, how Lena told them of her piercings, and how annoyingly curious Kara was about them. For some time, the thought of those damned piercings eluded her, but she never quite got around asking Lena and she never dared use her x-ray vision around her. Kara would have thought the curiosity about Lena would fade as she grew to know her, bit by bit, and yet, though Kara had finally seen those damned piercings—felt them on her tongue while Lena writhed under her—the curiosity for Lena Luthor only burned further.

;

Alex doesn’t ask her where she spent the night before but she grins at Kara like she knows, because of course she does. Not that Kara minded. Not that she minded the walk of shame either, though she _did_ have her clothes washed and dried, while she and Lena were _busy_ last night, because she’s walking on sunshine and however that song goes.

“Would you like some breakfast, Kara?” Alex casually offers, that stupid satisfied grin firmly on her face, but Kara shakes her head and gives her a smile.

“Already had it.”

;

That morning, Lena is late to poetry class, as always, but instead of walking past Kara’s row to walk her way to the back of the room, she casts the blonde a knowing glance that has Kara practically melting on her seat.

When Ms. Prince looks for volunteers to read their new works, Kara tries not to shoot her hand out to do so just because she has a new one because she’s _inspired._ Still, being active in class most of the time meant Ms. Prince has placed some expectations on her, and so when Lily and Charlie were done with theirs and no one else volunteered, the prof’s eyes were on Kara.

She didn’t need much encouragement. Kara stands with a nervous clearing of her throat and flips to the poem she worked on her way home. Finding the piece, she looks up and meets Lena’s gaze, like every word is written in green:

 

_The pale skin on the dark sheets_  
_Her raven hair on the white pillowcase_  
_And my face resting on her warmth_  
  
_Even with my eyes closed_  
_I can see the picture with exhilarating details_  
  
_My hands uncovering her legs_  
_My lips getting lost on her breasts_  
_Her nails marking the path her hands chose while traveling on my back_  
  
_And I'm confused_  
_Unsure if her breathing is setting my rhythm_  
_Or if it is my pace that's setting her panting_  
  
_I'm tempted to open my eyes_  
_But allow my other senses to take over_  
  
_The rosemary smell gets stronger_  
_And I just know, her hair was set free_  
_Her voice, coming in fragments_  
_Urgent_  
_Makes me see her body rising_  
_Falling out of breath_  
_And when I feel her hand on my hair_  
_I know that her eyes are now closed_  
_And it's time for me to give in_  
_To savor the sight_  
  
_What my mind was picturing as heavily made_  
_Doesn't stand a chance to this breathtaking reality_  
  
_I smile through my eyes_  
_While her lips keep my lips from doing it_

 

“Spicy,” Quinn says beside her. “Finally got laid, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, Fabray,” Kara laughs.

She doesn’t even mind Lily’s usual barrage of criticism and unsurprisingly, Gary’s innocent questions, but at least Lena doesn’t share her thoughts about the poem until after class.  Kara realizes Lena hasn’t bolted out of the door as soon as Ms. Prince dismissed them.

“No class today?” She asks Lena with a grin as she walks to her.

Lena bites her lip and shrugs. “I do,” she says, “but I don’t think I can focus on biological systems I should be studying about when I’m distracted by other… biological… systems.”

Kara barks out a laugh, but Lena just grins. “Unless _you_  have class,” she says, “otherwise, I can, um. Go.”

“No, no,” Kara says with a bashful grin. She _has_ cut class before, just for fun—except that one time during freshie year and she skipped along with her classmates to boycott the prof—because she has learned time and again that life is about experiences. That, and the thrill of doing something she shouldn’t be. And _this_ definitely feels thrilling. “I don’t.”

;

They don’t make it to Lena’s bedroom, this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Kara spends more time with Lena, and more often than not, at the latter’s apartment. It happens without much prompting; with midterms beginning, it was just nice to study somewhere peaceful with someone as dead set in acing her exams like Lena (and far away from blockmates whose bright idea is to incorporate drinking in studying for her Economics units). Though Kara and Lena only shared one subject which did _not_ have an exam, they found each other’s company helpful—at least, when Kara finally stopped being distracted with Lena’s soft look in glasses and a messy bun. Lena is Kara’s fresh eyes with her drafts, and Kara would quiz Lena with scientific jargon she is conceptually familiar with, from Krypton, though she doesn't tell Lena.

Alex doesn’t seem to mind Kara’s absence home, not when she and Sam have the apartment to themselves for some studying of their own. Kara doesn’t ask.

Kara knows that Lena Luthor is beyond just her gorgeous, jaw-dropping beauty and her brilliant, sharp wit that Kara especially appreciates when she’s writing articles that cut close to her own biases, but she takes the time to learn more about Lena, too—how her family is loaded, that she’s adopted and is expected to join the business soon, how she actually loves kale smoothies especially for breakfast, and how she can discuss the fundamentals of cellular and tissue engineering even while drunk on a bottle of wine.

In return, Kara shows her how she can fit 30 marshmallows in her mouth—while Lena laughs and laughs in a way that makes Kara’s heart jump—and rants about how print media isn’t dead, _at all,_ and social media isn’t supposed to kill it but supplement it, and that despite all her attempts for it not to show, she _does_ have a bleeding heart that shines through in the articles she writes.

Lena discovers that Kara is afraid of the dark and that she is claustrophobic, and that she lost her blood family when she was 13. She learns firsthand of the nightmares that plague the last daughter of Krypton, and though she doesn’t fully understand, she holds Kara and soothes her like rain and whispers _the woods are lovely, dark and deep but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep_ like they are etched in the back of her mind.

Kara notices that, when they are close to one another, Lena never fails to reach out and trace Kara’s knuckles like she is the most precious, fragile thing there is when in fact she is practically invincible. Lena listens to her words, no matter how pretentious or hopeless or how romantic, and smiles and laughs and cries with her as she chases for the words she wants or needs until everything sounds _perfect._

As she finishes reading a scribble of barely intelligible words fresh from a dream to Lena, sitting across her with her hair a mess and with nothing but black coffee in her system, Kara thinks that for once, despite her still haunting nightmares and the loss she can never quite fill—for once, everything _is_ actually perfect.

;

Alex tries her best to intimidate Lena when they first meet, but it’s hard to when Sam is hovering over her shoulder and the first thing the woman does is pull Lena into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Sam exclaims, and Kara laughs when she hears Alex makes a small sound of defeat that probably means _oh crap guess I’m not playing the tough card anymore._ Lena hugs Sam awkwardly because, well, she isn’t used to friendly contact, and it takes a couple of double dates and girls nights before she gets used to them.

;

The week before Halloween, there’s already excitement in the air. Kara is looking forward to it too; sure, she can’t go trick-or-treating with Alex anymore, but it means students from the freshie dormitory will be walking around campus and going to class in their most bizarre costumes. It’s a tradition of sorts that has become a sort of competition, one that usually makes it to local news outlets.

Kara finds it amusing. Krypton never had such things, never really had Halloween, and sometimes, she thinks of what her friends from Krypton would think about the day but stops herself before she could make herself sad.

When Lena sends her a text two days before Halloween asking what Kara thinks of her costume, Kara isn’t really sure what to expect. Sometimes, student organizations join in, of course—for fun or to raise funds, usually the latter—but Kara didn’t really think Lena _would_ participate. Especially when she only shrugged when Kara asked.

 _I’m doing this for charity,_ her text says, before a photo of her in her costume comes in. If Kara wasn’t sitting, she would have probably fallen on shaky knees.  Lena is wearing a short, black dress that looks too tight, and on her lips is a deep dark red shade that made her look so much paler. Kara hates that her first reaction was that of unadulterated _attraction,_ but she can’t help it. She swallows thickly and types up a response.

 _Are you supposed to be some hot goth_ _  
_ _vampire?_

 _Not sure about the hot part but at least I_ _  
_ _got the vampire part right._

_But thanks. ;)_

The winking emoji has Kara laughing but she could feel the warmth creeping up her neck. She puts down her phone before she could crack the screen, but when she realizes that she would, in fact, see Lena on the day of Halloween, _for class,_ she tries not to think about it too much.

_Oh Rao._

;

Lena, of course, comes in late to poetry class as usual. She still walks in the same way she does all the time, with muttered apologies and a quick, quiet stroll to her seat in the back, but Kara takes notice of her costume, of course. It doesn’t help that Lena makes a point to meet Kara’s gaze before she walks to her seat, a hint of a knowing smile on her lips. Kara swallows, the image of Lena in that short, tight dress and that deep red lipstick seared to the back of her mind, staying despite Kara’s valiant attempts to listen to Lily and Gary read their works.

All Kara could really think about is smudging Lena’s perfect lipstick, and maybe tearing up that stupid dress.

When class is over and Kara has half the mind to go to Lena and maybe persuade her to skip her next class, Lena walks over to her with a satisfied little smirk.

“Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Danvers?” She says in a way that certainly makes it sound like she _knows_ what is on Kara’s mind. The blonde hesitates.

“Pretty sure you know,” she mumbles. Her eyes drift down for a second and when she looks up, she blushes. The way Lena’s smirk widens make her redder.

“Unfortunately for both of us, I do have lab I can’t skip today,” Lena says, then shrugs. “You can come and visit  tonight though, if you’d like.”

She doesn’t wait for Kara’s answer. She leaves with a smile that is less teasing and more hopeful, citing being late for her next class. Kara gapes after her retreating form.

She is definitely going to come and visit.

;

Professor Grant talks to Kara after their class to talk about post-graduation opportunities. It’s a big deal, of course, and Kara is wildly surprised that she of all people caught _the_ Cat Grant’s eye. She talks about Kara possibly working for CatCo after graduation if she was so inclined. She mentions Iris being offered the same, too, and despite there being still a semester and a half away from graduating—Rao help her with her thesis—it was comforting to know she has options down the road.

She tells Lena of this, of course, and they celebrate with ice cream and _Shattered Glass_ because Lena hasn’t seen it. When it’s over, Lena is far too sleepy to move from the couch so Kara carries her to bed.

“What are your plans after graduation?” Kara murmurs, though she isn’t entirely sure Lena is still awake to answer. She pulls the sheets over Lena’s legs.

“Postgrad research,” Lena mumbles, and Kara smiles. “That and work for Lex, because otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother.”

Kara chuckles. “If anyone can do that, it’d be you.”

“It’s amazing what spite can motivate you to do, really,” Lena says with a sleepy laugh, and Kara’s heart does somersaults in her chest again. The raven-haired woman stretches sleepily on the bed then looks up at Kara with barely-open eyes. “Please stay the night.”

Kara smiles fondly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

;

For the first time, Kara is late for her poetry class. She blames bureaucracy and the government’s lack of transparency because it definitely shouldn’t be difficult for the public to access a public official’s financial records, but there she was, despite her super speed and ability to fly, running twenty minutes late into their classroom.

Lily, of course, took her seat at the front. The class has already started discussing Emily Dickinson’s _Wild Nights - Wild Nights_ as part of their final discussion on metaphors. Not wanting to disrupt any further, Kara makes her way to the back row of the room where Lena is seated. She grins at the woman.

“You’re late,” Lena greets with an amused grin. “You’re never late.”

“I thought metaphors weren’t supposed to state the obvious?” Kara quips as she sits beside her. She quickly fishes her readings and notebook from her backpack, trying her best to focus on Ms. Prince up ahead and Quinn giving her analysis of the poem. She reads the last stanza and Lena snickers softly beside Kara.

The blonde turns to her with a curious look. Lena bites her lip and shakes her head for a moment, then leans in to softly whisper.

“You can definitely moor in me right _now,_ ” she says with another light laugh. She is clearly joking, but there’s a glint in her eyes that Kara catches. The blonde is flabbergasted at first, but one thing leads to another and then she’s fingering Lena in the back of the room while Ms. Prince talks about metaphors and figures of speech.

Lena comes with a strangled noise that has everyone looking at them.

“Ms. Luthor,” Ms.  Prince says, looking at her with a curious eyebrow raised. “Anything you want to share to the class?”

Lena is still fresh from her orgasm, her pale cheeks flushed red, lungs still burning for air. She shakes her head and clears her throat.

Kara raises her still glistening hand and grins at the prof. “I have thoughts about the poem.”

;

That night, Lena lets Kara know exactly what wild nights are made of. It’s rough and messy and _loud_ and Kara loses herself in the moment; one minute she’s pounding Lena from behind with a strap-on Lena got for them, one hand on Lena’s hip and the other on her headboard, and the next there’s a soft sound of splintering wood as they both come.

“That’s hot,” Lena says when they finally catch their breaths, gesturing to the crack on her headboard as if it was _normal_ for a human to have done that. Kara laughs awkwardly.

“Krav maga.”

;

After that first time of deliberate _lying_ about her super-strength, it becomes more difficult for Kara to lie about what she really is—especially when she only grows fonder of Lena day by day.  

“I want to tell her, Alex,” Kara sighs one night as she flops down the couch beside her sister. Her eyes burn from working through three article drafts earlier but she managed to finish them with minimal frustration.

Alex closes her book and turns to Kara with pursed lips. “About…?” At Kara’s nod, Alex hums. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Kara frowns. “Maybe not. But I don’t like lying to Lena. Whether by omission or otherwise.” A long, heavy sigh. “It doesn’t feel right. Not when—”

She stops herself and bites her lip.

Alex raises her eyebrows. “When…?”

Kara only shrugs. Alex smiles in understanding, as always, and pats Kara’s shoulder. “If you think that’s the right thing to do.”  

“I do.” Kara sighs again and shrugs. “I’m just scared, you know? What if… What if she doesn’t get it?”

“Lena? The girl who talks about quantum biology like it’s the weather and who looks at you like you invented it?” Alex snorts. “I think she would. But if she doesn’t get it, well. I do know which parts of the human body would hurt the most.”

“Alex!”

“I’m just saying.”

;

Despite Kara’s deepest fears, she makes it a point to tell Lena sooner rather than later—during a study night over at Kara’s apartment. It’s like coming out of the closet all over again and she is understandably anxious, so much so that Lena could see it coming from a mile away.

“Hey,” Lena murmurs, reaching out for Kara’s fidgeting hands across the coffee table. “You haven’t touched your food. What’s wrong?”

Kara looks down at her plate of orange chicken and potstickers then sighs. “I…” She bites her lip, then looks up at Lena. “I need to tell you something.”

Lena pauses then, fully turning her attention to Kara. The blonde’s anxiety steps up a notch.  “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lena says, squeezing Kara’s hand.

“I know,” Kara sighs. “I know. Um.” She clears her throat. Maybe she should have thought this through, maybe prepared a speech, but even with one she doesn’t seem to be at all ready for this conversation. A part of her wants to run away— _fly_ away, maybe—but she settles with standing up and pacing in front of Lena, hands fidgeting. “Okay. I don’t think either of us are ready for this but… Here goes.”

She takes a deep breath and faces Lena.

“I’m… an alien.”

Lena raises a curious eyebrow.  “Okay,” she says after a beat.

Kara blinks a couple of times and her jaw drops in disbelief. Was it supposed to go like this? She definitely didn’t expect it to go like this. She swallows and waits for the other shoe to drop. “Okay? I just told you I’m not human.”

Shrugging, Lena stands. “So you’re different. Wait.” Lena’s lips quirk up in a smile. “Is that why you cracked my headboard when you were fu—”

 _“Yes,”_ Kara interrupts with a blush. Lena smirks but aside from that, she seems not at all bewildered by the truth.

“Okay. You’re an alien,” Lena says slowly as she walks up to Kara. Her little smirk turns into a little smile, in that same way she smiles at Kara like how Alex described—like Kara invented the one thing she loved most. It’s Kara who becomes disconcerted. Lena stops in front of  her, and the Kryptonian swallows the cotton in her throat.

“Is that supposed to scare me away?” Lena asks, both mild curiosity and understanding in her eyes, along with something else—something else that Kara never quite figured out what but had always seen in Lena’s eyes, shining brighter now somehow, with this secret out in the open.

“I don’t know,” Kara sighs, shoulders free of the secret but still worried. Lena’s reaction isn’t at all what she expected and the penny hangs in the air. “I just didn’t want to lie to you or keep things from you anymore.”

“If that’s the case, then… I don’t want to keep things from you either.” Lena pauses and chuckles, and her voice turns far too soft like she is _terrified._ Kara is confused because why would Lena be? The raven-haired woman sighs and cups Kara’s cheeks. “I love you.”

Kara’s jaw almost drops. Her eyes widen, too, and the brightness in Lena’s eyes dims for a moment in _terror_ and before she could pull away, Kara takes both of her hands in hers. She blinks, not knowing what to really say, but she understands now—why Lena looks at her like _that,_ why she smiles at her like _that._ Kara remembers the day they met—her own interest, made deeper by each word Lena shared to the class, to Kara herself, and how everything makes so much sense now; she holds still, anchoring Lena to the moment, and Rao, of all the times Kara is unable to find words, it had to be _now._

So instead of trying to find the words, she pulls Lena into a deep kiss. Lena melts into the touch and Kara burns with gratitude and delight. When Kara pulls away, she presses her forehead against Lena’s and smiles. “I love you, too.”

The terror in Lena’s green eyes disappears, replaced by the warmth Kara could feel, deep in her bones, like home born anew. Kara grins so widely that it almost hurts, and she realizes that all the words all those poets say about love hold _nothing_ to this very moment.

“So,” Lena whispers, a playful smile on her lips. “What other powers do you have, mighty alien?”

Kara laughs, heartfelt this time, because a storm has passed and they have emerged, stronger than before. She thinks of the loss of Krypton, of the grief she has gone through, the family she found in the Danvers, the love she found in Lena. She’s braved these storms and won, each time, despite all odds. “I can fly, I have heat vision—”

“Heat vision,” Lena interrupts, then pulls back to cast Kara an accusatory glance. It morphs quickly into understanding, then amusement. “I _knew_ my late night coffee wouldn’t stay hot that long!”

“You ignore your coffee for minutes on end,” Kara says, as if it’s the most obvious explanation.

“How could I have missed that?” 

Kara laughs. “You’re too busy studying. Nerd.”

Lena playfully rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but you love this nerd.”

Kara smiles, hope and flowers. “I do.”

;

Kara stays most of weeknights at Lena’s apartment during finals week. Despite Alex’s jokes that they “won’t be able to study at all” coupled with a disgusted scrunch of her nose and Sam’s manic laughter, they _do_ end up just studying; granted, there is the occasional flirting, loaded glances and Lena’s warnings to _not distract me, Kara, or I’ll have the lab in flames during our finals._

There is a new kind of freedom, too, with Kara’s identity revealed to Lena. She still casually heats Lena’s coffee, except this time, Lena leans over and kisses her cheek with a soft murmur of _thank you, love_ before returning to her book. When a random craving from either of them makes itself known, Kara is out the window and back before Lena could miss her, always with a paper bag of donuts or Big Belly burgers or hot chocolate from the small diner they once visited.

After the last day of finals, they plan to have dinner somewhere, but Lena had been too tired to go out so they order Chinese instead. After dinner and _Jurassic Park,_ Lena asks so softly if Kara could stay the night. When Kara agrees without second thought, Lena sighs.

“Thank you,” she says, like Lena is asking for so much, like Kara hasn’t offered to stay before, but she remembers Lena casually mentioning being alone for most of her life because the Luthors were busy with business and such. Kara aches.

“Always,” Kara whispers, and she kisses Lena just as softly as her murmured gratitude. It turns to fire, moments later—not that Kara is complaining, especially with Lena’s desperate hands on her asking for _more, harder, please,_ and it’s times like this that Kara feels so powerful without any use of her powers.

Despite Lena’s self-proclaimed exhaustion, she manages to tire out Kara past midnight. Lena giggles and curls up on Kara’s side, buzzing with delight.

“Good night,” Kara says, kissing her temple.

“Definitely,” Lena shoots back, before diving into dreams.

;

The sun wakes Kara up much earlier than she’d like. The sight that greets her is Lena softly snoring beside her, half-naked, dark hair framing her perfect features and Kara silently thanks Rao for her life on Earth. With her muse sleeping away beside her, Kara quietly rolls out of bed in search for a pen and a notebook, and returns just as quickly. She manages to write a poem before waking up Lena:

 

 _Don't get me wrong_  
_I'm not saying I don't enjoy the night_  
_I love the dim lights_  
_I love the temptation of corrupting the silence that spreads itself in the darkness_  
  
_The night may have the moon, the stars..._  
_Your hair on a beautiful braid_  
_The smell of your body lotion intoxicating me_  
_Blending itself with the perfume you can't sleep without_  
_And that green lingerie full of details I can't focus on_  
  
_But you have to agree with me_  
_The morning is so charming_  
  
_With your messy hair_  
_Lingerie on the floor_  
_The room smelling like the night before..._  
  
_The night can be irresistible_  
_But nothing_  
_Nothing is tastier than having breakfast in bed_

 

“Morning,” Lena mumbles from beside Kara, and the blonde turns to her with a fond grin. “What’s that?”

Kara looks down at her words sheepishly. “Just… Something.”

“It’s barely seven.”

“Inspiration struck,” Kara shrugs.

Lena smiles and slowly sits  up. “Do you want to read it to me?” She asks. Kara flushes for a moment but she nods anyway, then clears her throat to read.

Before long her lips speak praises against Lena’s skin until the third alarm for the morning goes off, reminding them of reality.

;

Lena has a conference in Germany first thing for her winter break. To present her research to a panel and hopefully get funding, she says, but Kara is worried about her going to a foreign country alone.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” Lena says over their lunch of chicken and pasta, and the way she says it makes Kara ache.

“I can go visit you?”

“What do you—oh.” Lena grins. “Efficient. I would love that.”

“Just let me know when I’ll be dropping by,” Kara laughs.  “Where will you be spending Christmas and New Year’s though?”

“Here,” Lena says, nibbling a bite of the chicken and swallowing. “Maybe drop by the Luthor house in Metropolis to say hi but I doubt anyone’s there.” She says it so casually that Kara feels her wide eyes are an overreaction.

“What do you mean you’ll be staying here though?” Kara asks, lowering her fork. “Like… your family’s visiting?”

“Oh, they won’t. Holidays don’t put a pause on business, Kara. In fact, business spikes on holidays.” Lena shrugs, so casually that Kara’s jaw drops further.

“Do you… Always spend holidays on your own?”

“Christmas and Thanksgiving, mostly,” Lena says. She moves the chicken nugget from her plate to Kara’s. The blonde ignores it because the sheer idea of Lena being alone on days where one is supposed to be with family made her feel a sudden hollowness in her stomach that no food can fix. It’s a different kind of loss. Kara dislikes the idea of Lena going through it, even if Lena doesn’t seem at all fazed by the fact.

The invitation for Lena to come with Kara and Alex to Midvale is issued without hesitation that Lena’s eyes widen.

“I can’t possibly impose—”

“You won’t be imposing,” Kara promises. “I invited you, and besides, Eliza would _love_ to meet you. She makes the best chocolate pecan pie, I promise.”

“Kara—”

“Please, Lena?” Kara says, using the puppy eyes that make Lena falter for a moment. “Look,” she sighs, “I really don’t like the idea of my girlfriend being alone during the winter break. I promise you’ll have fun with us, I’ll make sure Alex keeps her stupid jokes to herself, _and_ bonus,” Kara grins, gives a dramatic pause and adjusts her glasses, “we get to cuddle.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what your mom and Alex would think,” Lena deadpans. At Kara’s flush, she laughs. “I won’t be alone, you know. I’ll be spending much time at the lab. But _fine,_ ” she relents with a smile. “You got me at the chocolate pecan pie.”

Kara smiles too, relief and excitement in the gesture, and when Lena reaches for her hand over the table, she beams like the sun itself.

“Your girlfriend, huh?” Lena teases.

Kara backtracks and blushes some more. “Well—”

Lena squeezes her hand, a flush on her own cheeks. “You’re the cutest.”

;

The Danvers home is a lovely colonial house in the heart of Midvale, away from other houses. It overlooks the sea, Kara tells Lena on their drive there, Alex at the wheel, and during the Kryptonian’s first few weeks on Earth, it was one of her sources of comfort—the waves gave her something to focus on, away from all the excruciating sounds of everything.

Eliza walks out of the porch to greet the three before they could even get out of the car. Kara hugs and lifts her, and before Eliza could worry about it, Kara tells her that Lena knows. She pulls away from Kara and looks at Lena with the fondness of a mother who hasn’t seen her own child in years.

“Lena Luthor,” Eliza greets, and before Lena could offer her hand for the mother to shake, Eliza is pulling her into a hug. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

Lena looks at Kara with barely-held back tears, like this is the warmest welcome she has ever received, then she closes her eyes to return the hug.

“I’m very happy to be here.”

;

Lena gets a tour of the house, of course; Kara shows her childhood bedroom and the patio at the back that housed Jeremiah’s telescope. Alex points over to the area in the woods where she and Kara would go camping, and tells with a fond laugh how making s’mores was made easy with her little sister’s heat vision. Eliza tells stories, too, about how Alex and Kara used to fight all the time, how they managed to grow up into beautiful women supportive of each other, how Eliza is proud of Kara to have found someone like Lena.

“You think too highly of me,” Lena says with a laugh, and she throws a playful glare at Kara as if to say _what have you been telling your mom,_ but Eliza only smiles, as if in understanding.

“I _am_ a bioengineer by profession, sweetheart,” Eliza says, “I’ve read your papers on blackbody generators and nanotechnology before Kara’s mentioned you.”

Lena is speechless after that, and Eliza beams like she’s proud of herself, proud of _her._ As if she knew Lena felt odd at the moment, Eliza stands and mentions getting some snacks and tea ready; Alex offers to help her out, leaving Kara and Lena in the living room alone.

“Your mom’s lovely,” Lena says, her voice cracking in a way only Kara could hear. The blonde takes Lena’s hand in hers and squeezes it.

“I told you she’d love you,” Kara says.

“You never told me she read my papers,” Lena says, awe in her voice. Kara wonders if Lena’s own mother has read them but she doesn’t ask.

“To be fair, _I_ didn’t know,” the blonde says with a warm laugh.

Lena doesn’t say anything. Kara doesn’t, either, not until Lena speaks again. “You have a lovely family.”

Kara smiles at her. “Well. It’s your family now, too.”

;

The rest of winter break is spent with a lot of food and a tour of Midvale. On the days before Christmas, Eliza asks for help preparing for some kits, and Kara explains to Lena that it’s a Danvers tradition from way back when Jeremiah was alive. They would go around town and give away gifts to the homeless on Christmas Eve—some socks and blankets, bread and crackers, granola bars, a few canned goods and bottles of water, and pet food, along with some freshly-made pies and soup that Kara makes sure are warm before they are given out in the streets.

“If I had known I’d have brought donations,” Lena says while she helps pack the cans in a small box.

Eliza smiles at Kara, then at Lena. “There’s always next year,” she says, and the couple looks at each other warmly at the promise in her words.

;

Christmas is spent with food and wine and more laughter than Kara has ever remembered. She still thinks of Krypton, of Jeremiah, and the family spares them a few minutes of silence before a toast. They are women made stronger by fire, by grief, and each day, they become even stronger.

“El mayarah,” Kara says, raising her glass.

“El mayarah,” voices echo back to her.

;

No amount of being used to noises would ever prepare Kara for the noise of new year’s eve. Alex and Eliza nod at her in understanding and Kara tells Lena that she would have to lock herself in her room to drown out all the noise from the world.

Kara has never been thankful that she had told Lena about her powers. As the seconds tick by and the noise escalates, it becomes harder for Kara to direct her attention only on the waves of the sea.

“Tell me about Krypton,” Lena whispers, and Kara instantly focuses on her voice. Her true North. She immediately understands what Lena is doing and relief floods Kara.

“Well. It was always one for the sciences. I learned your concepts of calculus at age four—”

“You learned calculus at the age of _four,”_ Lena interrupts with a laugh.

Kara grins. Midnight strikes at Midvale and explosions light the sky on fire but all she could look at was Lena. “Didn’t you best your brother, a chess champion, when you were four?”

“Those are different things,” Lena shrugs.

“Multiple intelligences, babe,” Kara insists.

“Fine,” Lena laughs. “Always one for the sciences. And?”

Kara sighs and closes her eyes. She could still see Krypton explode and burn in her mind and it’s easier to with the fireworks outside her window.

Lena squeezes her hand though, anchors her to here and now. Kara opens her eyes and drowns in her green gaze—so much life and promise in them, so unlike the red fire of Krypton’s dying day.

“It was my home,” Kara says with a sad smile, “and I miss it all the time but Earth is my home now, too.” She sighs, hope in her breath like that day the Danvers found her. “The Danvers are my home, Lena, and so are you.”

;

Days pass by far more quickly than Kara would have liked. Registration comes and goes then classes begin again the following week. Kara, Lena, Alex, and Sam decide to celebrate it with girls’ night—pizza, wine and movies—at the Danvers sisters’ apartment. It’s a night filled with love and laughter, and when two in the morning rolls in, Sam is fast asleep and Alex is carrying her bridal style to her room.

“Good night, you two,” Alex whispers behind her before closing the door. Kara and Lena laugh before making their way to Kara’s bedroom. Lena changes in clothes she already has in Kara’s drawers, and before long they are cuddled up in bed, sleep dancing above them.

 _“We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains,”_ Lena whispers, breaking the silence. _“Ninety-three percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.”_

“Who’s that?” Kara asks.

Lena smiles and kisses her temple. “Nikita Gill. It reminds me that all of us are the same. It sounds better than the whole 75% water thing.”

“You do have a way of making the scientific more romantic,” Kara says with a laugh.

“You’re the one good with words,” Lena says with a soft smile that Kara sees despite the dim light in her room.

“I don’t know. Sometimes they elude me.” Kara lies on her side to face Lena. The woman does the same, as if eager to hear what Kara has to say, like always. “One thing’s for sure though, despite that, I know what I feel.” She reaches for Lena’s hand and places it over her heart. “Here.”

Lena looks at her like that day, in poetry class, when Kara talked of her nightmares—like something cracked open in her, except this time it’s light and hope and dreams coming true.

“One last sem, and then it’s a brave new world out there,” Lena whispers. “Let’s go conquer it together.”

Kara grins. “Let us go then, you and I,” she says, and Lena laughs like the sun.


End file.
